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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29354238">Breakdown (The Walls)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymacbethsspot/pseuds/ladymacbethsspot'>ladymacbethsspot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Chapter 92, Chapter 93, Depression, Gen, M/M, Marley Arc (Shingeki no Kyojin), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence, not exactly enemies to friends but in that vein a little, season 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:28:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29354238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymacbethsspot/pseuds/ladymacbethsspot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Porco's swallowed his rage against Reiner for years. He's even learned to work with him, respect him- almost. It's a begrudging peace they have. But in the wake of the final battle of the years'-long war with the Mid-East Allied Forces, Porco realizes that his comrades will soon be all he has.</p><p>And it's time for him to confront Reiner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reiner Braun/Porco Galliard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Breakdown (The Walls)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Takes place in and around chapters 92-93 in the manga and episodes 1 and 2 of season 4 of the anime.</p><p>Written for Gallirei Week 2021 Day 2, "Sick or Injured".</p><p>Explores Porco's angsty anger and Reiner's sad sads. Or, I just think Porco has beaten Reiner up a few times and he's just taken it and I can't stop thinking about it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blinding flashes, light, and heat. Stars launched from the bay exploded, turning Porco’s vision white. Wiping out the turrets, the walls, even the screaming soldiers’ twisted faces. The bursting shells blew it all away. Sound came next. Claps of thunder, so close they pounded in his jaw, turned the world into a ringing echo as waves of hot air blew past, ruffling his mane, and singing his hair a burnt orange. In the moments that stretched in the wake of the blast, Porco waited, blood beating in his eardrums all he could hear, clouds of dust all he could see, and burnt hair all he could smell.</p><p>At the first sign of solid shapes resolving from the smoke, Porco moved. The battle wasn’t over, not yet. Hind legs pushing into hot sand, he jumped, reaching for the walls. His claws skittered on stone before he forced them into it, wedging them into crumbling mortar and pulling his body up. Up along the wall he climbed, hand over foot, loping to the top before the battlefield cleared of smoke.</p><p>And when it did he was waiting for them, the remaining gunners. Looming into view above them, he didn’t hear their screams. His ears were still ringing. He didn’t see their faces. His eyes still stung with ash. Porco lashed out at the cannons, swinging razor-tipped claws along the wall that caught on metal, rending it apart. He sliced through them like butter- metal, flesh, and bone alike. With no time to pause, he moved on to the next. Around the wall, taking out the remaining turrets, Porco’s circuit was quick.</p><p>Between billowing pillars of smoke, he caught glimpses down the hill. Black clouds rose from the bay. The battlefield came into focus. And so did the screams. Wails, yelps, cries of fear and despair- Porco charged through them to staccato notes as bullets whistled by his chin. But he couldn’t stop running, couldn’t stop fighting, not until the anti-titan artillery was gone. Tactically, they’d already won. But if he lost a comrade: Zeke, Pieck, or even Reiner- then winning meant nothing. It might be easy for someone like Reiner to forget, but Porco wasn’t going to leave anyone behind. He would finish the job.</p><p>As Porco bore down on the last turret, he went into a sprint. Hands and feet barely touching the rocks, he flew along the wall’s ridge. Ahead of him the stout canon turned, until he was looking down its barrel. Closer and closer, the dark opening loomed larger. The canon flared, its mouth popping bright. Fire bloomed from its tip. With a flick of his head, Porco ducked to the side. He dug his claws in and swung out of the way, dry rock crumbling in his iron grip. Letting go of the wall he jumped up onto the turret. Extended his feet as he came down, punching dents into the metal like it was mere foil, he landed with a crash and a roar. Men clumped around the turret yelled words he didn’t understand, their raised guns going off in pops and flashes.</p><p>Bullets plinked off his forehead. Porco raised his jaw. With a swipe of spread claws he cut through the wall. Throwing the lucky soldiers to the ground below, and tearing the unlucky ones in two, he whipped through the enemy’s forces. Clawing and biting, his mane whipped to a frenzy by howling desert wind, Porco’s jaw tore through steel. Crushing the gun’s barrel, spilling the turret’s contents of men and ammunition over the wall’s edge, he left only rubble in his wake. And as the last man at the turret raised his gun to fire, Porco lifted his chin in defiance. He opened his mouth, forcing a full-throated roar from his chest. The man before him stood still- gun still raised- but frozen, shaking in his boots. Porco lunged at him, mouth open, and bit down.</p><p>The wall’s perimeter secured, he climbed down into the fort. In an exhale of steam, he released his rage, letting the titan flesh fall from his body. Shedding the finished battle with his titan form, Porco pulled himself to his feet. Vestiges of the monster he’d been clung to him, to his face, to his fingers, steaming off his body.  </p><p>Only a man, he rejoined his comrades.</p><p>“Always leaving me to clean up the mess, huh,” he grumbled, walking up to Zeke. The man stood there silent, unbothered by the wreckage, a cigarette perched between his fingertips. He blew out a long puff of smoke and tilted his head back, watching it float up to join the columns of ash rising from the fort. Porco shook his head and stepped past him. His eyes fell on the ground.</p><p>What remained of the Armored titan lay fused to the ground. Porco stared, taking in the sight. Its head lay on the ground, an arm stretched out beside it. But its other arm was gone, and everything past the top of its chest was burnt. Fibers of muscle and white bone had melted, extended out in a pool of flesh, mingled with the sand and turned to a glassy sheen as they hardened. Wrinkling his nose, Porco stepped closer. The scent of cooked meat and fire filled his nose.</p><p>“Useless,” he frowned, prodding at the mess with the toe of his boot. The Armored titan lay still. Mangled and broken like this, it would take weeks for him to heal. But eventually he would, Porco knew. He grit his teeth. “Serves you right for starting this war, Reiner.”</p><p>“Deputy Chief Braun saved me.” When he heard Zeke’s voice, Porco looked up.</p><p>“Huh, good for you,” he grunted, nonplussed.</p><p>“And besides that,” Zeke went on, flicking ash from the tip of his cigarette, “we learned something today.”</p><p>“What’s that?” Porco asked.</p><p>“Look at him.” Zeke waved a hand at the ruined titan’s body. “We can’t rely on him anymore. Or on any of us.”</p><p>“What do you mean? I thought he saved you?”</p><p>“That’s exactly the problem,” Zeke answered. He walked up to Porco. Pointing at the crater in the ground where sand and bone had both melted, he continued, “The Mid-East Allied Forces’ battleships hit him from the bay. If they did that much damage to the Armored, you can already imagine what that means. None of us stand a chance.”</p><p>Porco felt his brows pull together as Zeke’s words sunk in. The War Chief was right.</p><p>“Marley can no longer rely on the titan’s strength,” Zeke commented.</p><p>“So then we’re <em>all</em> useless,” Porco whispered.</p><p>Useless. The word stuck in his mind. It sat there as he worked, clearing the rubble from the fort’s entrance and opening the doors for the Warrior infantry. It settled, a steady beat behind the mundane business of following orders: scout through the ruins, dispatch any lingering true titans that survived the fall, and round up any survivors. The whole time he couldn’t get it out of his head, the unsettling idea that they’d been outmaneuvered, even in victory. Porco tried to push it away, to focus on the details of evacuating the battlefield. There were troops to mobilize, activities to oversee- beyond the violence modern warfare was as logistical and bureaucratic as any other venture.</p><p>It was a business unsuited to titans.</p><p>With the final, dubious honor of cutting Reiner’s human body free from the mountain of ruined flesh complete, Porco heaved the man out of the smoldering pile of gore. Reiner lay limp, his head lolling to the side, its weight heavy on Porco’s shoulder. He looked tired, his face drawn and pale, his breathing shallow enough to miss. Reiner looked pathetic, Porco thought, and weak. But as he stared at the man longer, Zeke’s words dredged themselves up from the depths of his thoughts, and Porco realized that he’d gotten it wrong. As broken and helpless as Reiner was- it didn’t matter. Reiner looked exactly the same as he always had. It was him that was weak-</p><p>They all were now. Soon the military wouldn’t need them. Marley had never wanted them. Without the strength of their titans, Eldians like him had no hope.</p><p>*“You’ve got him?”* Pieck’s cart voice graveled beside him.</p><p>“Yeah,” Porco grunted, shaken from his thoughts.</p><p>*“How is he?”*</p><p>With a shrug, Porco hefted his comrade’s body and gave him a cursory look. The man had taken plenty of damage, but nothing their powers couldn’t heal. “All limbs accounted for, but still an idiot.”</p><p>An idiot was all he had left.</p><p>An idiot he couldn’t let go.</p><p>  </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <em>Reiner was floating, detached, and his hands were not his own. They were massive, gigantic things, with hardened plates that wrapped over the knuckles, encasing his joints. Plates hard and smooth as bleached bone, but bone that sat on the outside, with nothing but red muscle, skin all peeled back, between them. Reiner stared at his grotesque hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They were wet. Blood coated his palms, slick and dark. It feathered out, seeping into the every crevice of exposed muscle, dripping down his wrists. Frantically, he looked around, wondering where so much blood could have come from.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It came from the corpses. </em>
</p><p><em>Scattered around him were bodies, soldiers, some smashed by rubble, others wounded as if by a giant beast.</em> As if by a titan<em>- the thought came to him. Reiner looked down. Beneath his foot, the huge foot that wasn’t his, was a man’s torso. He stepped quickly back, stumbling as he tried to pick out his footing between the scattered dead. But his feet were clumsy, his body responded too slow. He staggered away, only to realize the man he’d been worried about had already been dead- his helmet crushed like paper, his blood staining dirt.</em></p><p>Titans- the titans- it was titans who did this<em>, Reiner thought.</em></p><p>
  <em>The beat of propellers above made him look up. Something oblong and dark hung in the sky. As it moved, so slowly, the whipping motors chopping the air turned to a whirr and the shadow blotted out the midday sun high in the sky. Reiner watched it, feeling a dull queasiness in the pit of his stomach, a dread he couldn’t name. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A cry pierced through the air. Faraway, but loud in his hears, loud in his blood, it pounded in his head. Lightening flashed. Booms of thunder exploded above as the world turned white and hot. From the brightness shadows hurtled down, resolving into shapes. The sky was raining bodies- giant’s bodies- limbs flapping as they fell, faces twisted mockingly. They rushed toward him, toward the ground, gaining momentum, the air singing as Reiner stood transfixed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d seen them before. From the tops of the walls, from the limbs of trees. He’d fought them. It was the same terror he’d felt then, swinging through the air, a pair of slim blades in his hands. It was the same fear of open mouths, of grasping hands, or freakish stature and strength. It was a fear he’d learned from experience, and he felt it grip him again. His heart beat in his ears. The titans were coming. And he had no sword- only bare, bloody hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Reiner tried to run. He tried to lift his feet. But there was no time. Titans rained from the sky.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When they hit he felt no impact. Instead, he found himself falling. Falling from a plane, falling from a wall, he couldn’t tell. He struggled to look around, get his bearing, but turning his head only made him dizzy, the altitude playing tricks with his perspective. It didn’t matter, he decided, as the confusing amalgam of visions raced past. Stones in an endless wall, falling from an endless height, bodies below and bodies above- it was too choppy to grasp, too disorienting to think about. They were all the same anyway. As wind whipped by his ears, Reiner squeezed his eyes shut.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But the visions wouldn’t fade. Instead, behind the red of his eyelids, they were more hectic, more desperate, more visceral. He could feel his body responding as they cried out around him. He felt sweaty and frantic, his throat growing dry. It was hot, so hot, like his body was on fire- like being inside a titan. And still the memories came, accelerating his heartbeat, making his head swim as they blended together. Battlefields in foreign lands, battlefields on a small island- everywhere there was death, there was blood, and there were walls. Whether inside or outside them, he couldn’t escape.</em>
</p><p>I’ve had enough… of walls<em>, Reiner thought.</em></p><p>
  <em>They tormented him. They made him remember. The ill-fated mission so many years ago, abandoned on an island, left to his fate. The way Marcel died, the way the nightmare began. And Gods, Gods, how easily he could see Marcel’s face, Marcel’s Jaw, all these years later in Porco’s titan. They looked too alike. It reopened the wounds. Old wounds, ones that had never healed right, that had scarred poorly, barely able to cover what had been broken underneath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His memories flooded over him, torturing him like they always did. Annie’s roars, the fear in Bertolt’s eyes- they were all his fault. He’d let Marcel down. He’d tried to take his place, but he couldn’t- Reiner just couldn’t- he had known he would fail from the beginning. Porco had told him. He wasn’t strong. He wasn’t smart. He didn’t have the endurance or the skill. Galliard had been right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d failed. He’d killed them. Even after all the battles, he could still see their faces. The faces of the friends he’d left to die. The people he couldn’t protect.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Air whistled in his ears. The ground must be near. Reiner opened his eyes and he was-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Back in Shiganshina. Watching Bertolt fall. His nape had been slashed. Reiner knew what had happened. He was going to die. Bertolt was going to die- again. In front of his eyes, no matter what he did, he would lose everything- again. And Reiner- if he watched it happen one more time, he knew he would die too.</em>
</p><p>“Wait!” he shouted, jerking awake.</p><p>His pulse was wild, his skin drenched in sweat. Reiner sat up to a wave of dizziness, clutching his head.</p><p>“It sounded like you were having a nice dream,” Porco commented dryly, taking a bite of a sandwich. Reiner closed his eyes, the throbbing behind them receding somewhat as he listened to the other man chew. “…so I decided not to wake you up.” Reiner cracked one eye open, his pulse starting to even. The chill was falling away. He’d been resting, likely recovering. The infirmary was familiar- hard beds and blank walls he’d seen many times over the past four years. The smell of bleach clung to the sheets.</p><p>Reiner looked over, watching Porco eat. He sat nearby, at a desk next to the bed. The dry sound of a pen nib scratched against the paper spread out before him, and Reiner wondered what he was doing there, sitting and writing. The light wasn’t bad, but no one chose to stay in the infirmary if they didn’t have to. It was usually full of the sick and wounded from battles- usually smelled of piss and dysentery. But now it was quiet. Now it was empty, and Reiner knew he must have slept a very long time.</p><p>Looking at Porco, his reddish hair, his upturned nose- he remembered. The battle, Galliard’s Jaw attacking the artillery, saving him- it came back in a series of stop-motion flashes. But they were muddled, their order shuffled and their sense confused. Reiner shook his head. Was it Porco’s Jaw? Was it Marcel’s? Were the memories fresh, or old things he’d dredged up? He couldn’t tell. They were all too alike.</p><p>“….I still haven’t thanked you,” he mumbled anyway. “Galliard, I owe you one.”</p><p>The pen stilled. Porco gave him a long look. As Reiner returned it, scanning his comrade’s face, he noticed it wasn’t the way Porco usually looked at him. The difference was subtle, but it was enough to give him pause. There was none of the anger, none of the disdain Reiner had grown used to, lurking behind his eyes. Instead he looked open and frank, as though he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Wiping his mouth, Porco turned away. “No, you don’t. It wasn’t you I saved, anyway,” he muttered.</p><p>Porco continued, slipping into his usual complaints, berating Reiner for his performance as Reiner’s attention wandered. The look he’d had was gone, or maybe it had never been there. Reiner must have been mistaken. Letting it go from his mind, he swung his legs off the side of the bed, testing how they felt when his feet touched the floor.</p><p>“…if they chose me…my brother never would have protected you before getting eaten by a random titan.” Reiner stiffened, the words cutting into his chest.</p><p>“Could you- see Marcel’s memories?” he asked, his throat tightening.</p><p>“No,” Porco admitted. Reiner felt his muscles relax. He’d known it was possible, that Porco would learn the truth. He’d dreaded the day ever since he’d inherited the Jaw. The day Porco learned that his brother had lied for his sake, had left him behind while they infiltrated Paradis, the day Porco learned Reiner took his place and then squandered his sacrifice- it hurt too much to think about. He couldn’t even do that right. He couldn’t even fulfill Marcel’s wish to protect his brother.</p><p>But as much as he feared Porco knowing, his ignorance cut just as deep. Reiner wanted those memories to surface in Galliard too, in some perverse way. He wanted Porco to know, and to understand.</p><p>His comrade continued, “Ymir volunteered to give Marcel’s titan back, huh?”</p><p>“…yes, she did,” Reiner nodded, staring hard at the floor, a feeling of numbness detaching his senses from the present. Porco didn’t know yet. He might never know, unless Reiner told him. But he couldn’t bear that either. And it didn’t matter- what good could it do? He’d only fail in that as well, Reiner knew.</p><p>Retracing Ymir’s memories, hearing them from Porco’s mouth as he spoke, it all gave Reiner the feeling that he was caught in an endlessly repeating dream. Or a nightmare, like the one he’d just awoken from. “…what did you even do on that island?” Porco asked, his tone accusing. <em>Nothing</em>, Reiner scolded himself in his head, memories resurfacing. “…it was almost like you were trying to be like <em>Marcel</em>.”</p><p>Reiner looked away as Porco said it, unable to meet his narrowed eyes.</p><p>He didn’t know. He didn’t know. It didn’t matter- but- unlike Reiner, he deserved the truth.</p><p>“You’re right, Galliard,” Reiner admitted. “Everything you’re saying is exactly right.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Porco strode down the hall of the infirmary, his hands clenched, his steps clipped. Reiner- <em>how dare he- he’d been so pathetic-</em> Porco fumed. He’d dropped that bomb on Porco so easily, like it meant nothing, with no time or chance to explain before Pieck had limped in. It wasn’t her fault the train was leaving to take them back to the internment zone in Liberio that night. It wasn’t her fault there was preparation and packing that needed to be done. But Porco had waited- <em>he’d waited</em>- the Gods only knew how many days- sitting at that tiny desk, watching Reiner toss and turn and sweat through his sheets.</p><p>He’d watched the sun come up and he’d watched it fall back down. He’d fallen asleep in that chair to the unsettled murmurs coming from the fevered man lying on the bed beside him. He’d been woken in the dead of the night by Reiner’s screams, by his thrashing, the bed’s metal frame beating on the floor. He’d gone to fetch Pieck, racing down the halls with her on his back, moving as fast as he could, afraid the nurses or doctors would hear them and get to Reiner first. He’d even held Reiner down, wrestled his flailing limbs to the mattress, as the man cried and shouted, haunted by invisible enemies. Together they’d tied him down, secured his wrists and his feet, until the fits had passed.</p><p>And now Reiner had just up and left the infirmary on his own, without answering a single one of the million questions Porco had. After he’d waited so long- it was infuriating. <em>Reiner, you bastard,</em> Porco thought, <em>I won’t let you leave like that again.</em></p><p>Hurrying down the stairs he nearly bowled over a nurse.</p><p>“I’m terribly sorr- oh, you’re one of those <em>Eldians</em>,” she stopped mid-apology and wrinkled her nose as he stepped past, her hands coming up to rest on her hips as she gave him a hard look. “I thought we’d seen the last of you now that we finally tossed out that invalid upstairs.” She frowned at him, somehow managing to look down on him in her starched white apron and sharp-cornered hat despite Porco standing at least a head taller. Distaste was written in the way her lip curled back. “Go on, the war’s over. Get out of here.”</p><p>“Deputy Chief Braun left? Where’d you send him?” Porco asked, the title sounding mocking even to his ears.</p><p>“To the barracks. Where else? It’s the only place your kind are welcome, and even down by the wharves isn’t far enough away if you ask me,” she complained shrilly, as Porco turned away. He jogged down the stairs, ignoring the nurse’s complaints. “…not even a word of thanks- after we feed and clothe and treat you devils…” her nagging words dogged at Porco’s heels, following him down the stairs and around the corner, until he was too far down the hall to hear any more.</p><p>Outside the hospital was little better. The streets crowded with pedestrians and vehicles, both with horses and without, slowed Porco’s progress. But he didn’t have time to waste. Reiner could already be meeting up with the others in the Warrior unit to board the train. If he got to the station then Porco would lose his chance- and everything he’d bottled up, and agonized over, and waited so many tedious hours for would all go to waste. Anger fueled him with its fire, burning in the pit of his stomach, pushing his feet in a quick one-two beat on the cobbles. He threaded through a group, cutting quickly in front of a man in his haste. Porco’s rudeness earned him a smarting whack on the shoulder and a barrage of insults as he passed, but he was too focused and was moving too quickly to stop or take notice. Instead he shrugged the strangers away and continued down the busy street, taking the first turn down an alley he recognized before breaking into a jog.</p><p>Away from the main street Porco sped up. He wound through the warren of narrow alleys, making his way toward the harbor. The sounds of people and traffic grew more distant, replaced instead by his boots hitting stone, breaths rising in his chest. The barracks compound sat at the edge of town. It was close enough to the harbor and train tracks to make moving troops easy, but out of the way enough for most townspeople. The distance didn’t bother Porco. Running when there was nothing to run from- no bullets flying, no shells going off- was almost easy. It could have been pleasant even, with the lowering sun turning the bricks rosy and warm and gulls circling and calling in the blue sky above.</p><p>But Porco couldn’t allow himself that either.</p><p>Instead every block was a struggle that only added to his frustration. Why couldn’t Reiner have waited back at the hospital? Why hadn’t he said anything more? And why, when he’d admitted that Porco was right, had he looked so defeated? Porco went over and over it in his head, all the questions he still had, all the explanations Reiner owed him, cursing the man with every breath. By the time he neared the barracks he’d lost all hold of his reason. He had to find Reiner- had to ask him- he <em>had to make him understand</em>. Everything he’d done to Porco, everything he’d put him through- it couldn’t just be dismissed.</p><p>Jogging up to the back of the walled compound, Porco’s footsteps slowed as he rounded the corner. Containing his anger as he composed his features, he strode quickly along the concrete wall. He didn’t look up at the loops of barbed wire, or down as his feet hit the cobbles and mud splashed against his boots. Instead he kept his chin high, his eyes straight ahead until he reached the metal gate. A nod at the guard and a shrug to show the uniformed man his armband were enough to gain him entry. The guard wasn’t stationed to keep him or the other Warrior Eldians out anyway, but instead to keep their harassment to an acceptable minimum.</p><p> As Porco entered the compound and headed toward his barracks he spared only a quick look at the surroundings. Little changed here, inside the reinforced walls and the squat, brick buildings. But the tracks between buildings felt wider without the troops’ supplies and drills crowding them.</p><p>Everyone was gone-</p><p>The realization made him hurry, his anger beginning to turn desperate. He lifted his feet higher, speeding up to a run. The building at the back of the compound- by the western wall- that was the dormitory they’d been assigned. When Porco reached it the small, high windows looked dark. He pushed through the door and stormed through the entry, not even pausing to turn on the lights as he ignored the row of empty gear-hooks. Rushing down the narrow, dark hall, not caring as his boots left fresh prints of mud on wooden slats that creaked underfoot, he stopped in front of a thin door on the left. He raised his hand and rapped on the wood, anger bubbling up in his chest, forcing his hand to beat harder, until he was pounding against it. Without waiting for a response he grabbed the doorknob and turned, throwing the door open.</p><p>“Reiner!” he bellowed, expecting to find the room empty.</p><p>But underneath the wide slit of a window at the back wall stood a man, his back to the door, his head raised up as if he was looking out. The room was mostly dark, but the faded daylight filtering through the glass above cast enough light, and the broad, slumping shoulders beneath the man’s khaki jacket were impossible to mistake.</p><p>It was Reiner.</p><p>“You are here-” Porco advanced, his tone already accusing. “What the hell did you mean?” Porco began, the words he’d rehearsed and agonized over evaporating in the face of the moment. “What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”</p><p>The leaden shrug of Reiner’s shoulders in response only made Porco’s words more bitter. “Don’t give me that! You said it yourself. So just tell me- I’m right? Right about what? About that faker Ymir- about that little play you put in in Paradis- pretending to be some big hero?”</p><p>“Porco, I-” Reiner’s head turned to the side as his voice cracked. For a moment his profile was lit by the sun’s fading light. Bits of gold caught in his hair and his beard. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and took a deep breath, but before anything could come out he turned away instead, shaking his head.</p><p>“Come on, Reiner,” Porco pressed him, closing the few steps’ worth of distance between them, his teeth gritting with frustration. Reiner had been about to tell Porco, about to say something- yet here he stood, staring at the goddamn wall, holding a pity party for himself. It wasn’t fair- Porco knew it, whatever he’d been about to say was important- he could feel it. And he wasn’t about to be cheated out of that too. “Just tell me!” he burst out, “Right about what? What the hell did you mean?”</p><p>“I meant-” Reiner’s voice was uneven. Flaring out as quickly as it had started, he paused, and finished with a mumble, “…it’s nothing.”</p><p>“Bullshit!” Porco exclaimed. “It’s <em>not</em> nothing. I saw it. Ymir saw it. You were pretending to be Marcel. Talking like him, acting like him- pretending to be dependable- as if you gave a shit about those island devils! As if you belonged there! You were <em>pretending</em> to be my <em>brother!</em>” he spat at Reiner’s back, feeling a sick flicker of pleasure as he watched Reiner flinch. But it wasn’t enough. He pressed on, feeling like he was finally gaining ground, the answers he sought within reach. “Why, Reiner? Why’d you do it? It doesn’t make sense. What more are you hiding?”</p><p>But Reiner didn’t move. He didn’t sigh, didn’t answer, just stood facing the blank wall.</p><p>Porco could feel the anger swelling up in his chest. He was so close. So fucking close. And Reiner was still depriving him of this. His eyes narrowed. Despicable. He reached out, grabbed the man’s bicep, squeezing it tight. “Dammit Reiner, you can’t just ignore me like this!” Jerking his arm hard, he tried to force Reiner to face him. But the man stood still, unmoving. “Look at me!” Porco demanded. “Tell me Reiner- what- what are you playing at? Are you mocking me? Are you mocking <em>my dead brother?</em>”</p><p>At his words, the hard line of Reiner’s back seemed to buckle. His head drooped. He took a step forward, shaking free of Porco’s grasp, then stumbled, catching the wall for support as he leaned his forehead against it. “No… I’m not… it’s nothing…” he whispered into the wall.</p><p>Seeing his comrade’s display only made Porco’s lip curl. His weakness was pathetic. “Nothing,” he repeated. “Nothing. You expect me to swallow that?” As Porco’s anger rose, catching at his throat, balling up his fists, his voice grew louder. “After everything that’s happened, after all I’ve done- all the times I saved your sorry ass-” he was yelling now “-after everything you’ve <em>taken from me?</em>” He’d waited too long. Porco could feel it. He hadn’t told the whole truth when he’d said Reiner didn’t owe him, not exactly. It wasn’t the last battle Porco cared about, nor the one before it, nor the ones before that. Reiner’s debt was far older, his betrayal far deeper. It wasn’t that he didn’t owe Porco. He owed him too much.</p><p>And it was too late.</p><p>The rage he’d let simmer boiled over. It pounded in his veins and rushed to his head. Years and years of anger, of hurt, exploded and he could no longer contain them. Reiner’s flimsy admission of guilt wasn’t enough. Porco needed more. “My friends, my own <em>brother!</em> <em>You killed them!</em>” Porco saw red. “And now you won’t even answer one fucking question? Face me, Reiner. Face me like a man!” he roared, grabbing the other man’s shoulder.</p><p>With all his strength he pulled Reiner from the wall. He yanked the man back, using both hands to forced his unyielding, dead weight around. No sooner had he turned than Porco’s right arm came up. His hand already balled into a fist, he threw a lightning-fast punch. Aiming dead center at the men’s chest, he hit Reiner hard. Fury drove him, his clenched fist connecting with a jolt. Porco followed through, throwing the weight of his muscles, the strength of his shoulder, behind the blow.</p><p>Reiner’s back hit the wall. The breath left his lungs, starting a coughing fit as he crumpled. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed between gasps, struggling to stay standing as he bent over, his arms clutching his sides. Porco stared at his companion, his jaw hard, his eyes narrowed. Reiner was pathetic. He always had been. He hadn’t changed one bit. And it wasn’t good enough, some vague apology like this. It couldn’t make up for what he’d done. He raised his arm, ready to strike Reiner again, this time in the face. “…I deserve this…” Reiner whispered.</p><p>Porco paused. He couldn’t have heard that right.</p><p>Reiner’s head lifted, just a few centimeters, but he looked up. Their eyes met. Reiner’s were watery, red at their corners. His lips trembled as his mouth opened. “Please…” he whispered, his voice quiet as the rustle of leaves, so quiet Porco had to strain to hear.</p><p>But he heard Reiner right this time.</p><p>And the wrenching look on his face, twisted with pain and regret, much more than Porco’s punch could have inflicted, snapped something inside him.</p><p>Reiner wasn’t asking him to hold back.</p><p>He was begging to be hit.</p><p>The realization dawned on Porco in a flash, his anger fading in its wake. He couldn’t be angry anymore, not like this. As much as he disliked Reiner, for the sniveling suck-up he’d been, for the impossible man he’d become, for everything he represented- every pain and wrong Porco had piled onto him- he couldn’t continue. There was no point in it. Reiner was already broken. There was no retribution or catharsis left to be had. And if he punched him again, Porco knew he’d only stand to lose more.</p><p>He’d lose one of the only comrades- one of the only <em>friends</em>- that he had.</p><p>And Porco was tired of losing.</p><p>He could no longer hate this man.</p><p>He just couldn’t bring himself to.</p><p>Porco lowered his fist. He took a step back.</p><p>“Let’s get going,” he growled. “Can’t fight you now, anyway. Wouldn’t be worth it, with your injuries barely healed. It’d just be a waste.” Reiner looked up at him, confusion written in his heavy features. His eyes searched Porco’s face, blinking too rapidly, his breathing still labored. Slowly, his brows relaxed, a look of disappointment pulling down against the strong line of his jaw.</p><p>Porco felt a pang of something sharp in his chest. Unable to bear the emptiness in Reiner’s eyes any longer, he turned away. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he trudged toward the door. As he walked, his fingers brushed the smooth outline of the flask he kept hidden in his back pocket. He thumbed the cap idly, feeling its ridges against the pad of his fingertip. At the door, he paused, pulling the flask from his pocket on a whim. Porco looked down at its rough pewter finish. He hefted its weight in his palm.</p><p>With a sigh, he turned, tossing the flask to his friend.</p><p>His hand quick as it arced toward him, Reiner caught it. His reflexes, at least, were still good.</p><p>“What’s this?” Reiner asked slowly, squinting at the flask he held in his fist.</p><p>Porco gave a shrug. “For your health,” he answered. “Can’t have you dying yet- not without me. I still haven’t paid you back for the first time you left. You think I’d let you get away with it again? Fat chance, Reiner,” he commented as he stepped from the room. “From now on where you go, I go.”</p><p>“Looks like you’re stuck with me.”</p>
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